An Excited Letter
by Elfpen
Summary: Some of the latest Royal news reaches Redmont, in a letter addressed to Will Treaty. MAJOR SPOILERS FOR BOOK 11: 'THE LOST STORIES' DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU WANT SPOILERS AND LOTS AND LOTS OF FLUFF! Ye hath been warned.


_**WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR BOOK 11 'THE LOST STORIES' DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU WANT TO HEAR A LOT OF SPOILED FLUFF.**_

A/N: So. I finished _The Lost Stories_. …Honestly, I don't think there are any words that can describe how much I loved it. It was 422 pages of pure fluff, and I'm a hopeless sap – how could I NOT have loved it?

But this particular oneshot is a response to a squee-worthy line found on page 415. (at least in US edition) When I read it, I literally pointed to the line and yelled, (with a stupidly huge grin) "IT'S CANON!"

…As I said, I'm a hopeless sap. Anywho, on with the sappine-eeeer, that is, oneshot!

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><p>Will yawned. He'd only slept for a few hours the previous night, and was loath to drag himself up to attend to another day of work. He hadn't meant to sleep so little, indeed, he hardly had a choice. He'd been riding back from an interview with the Warden, who had wanted to discuss some recent arrests he'd made, when the villagers came looking for him.<p>

"Will! Ranger Will, please help us!" An aproned woman came jogging up to him. He frowned at her alarmed tone, and checked Tug ever so slightly as she came up beside him on the road. With some surprise, he recognized her as one of the women who used to care for him and the other wards when they were small. She was older now, but she still remembered his name. Though for some reason, she wasn't nearly as tall as Will remembered.

"Gisele?" He asked, hoping he'd gotten her name right.

Something must have been wrong, because she didn't even bother smiling when he remembered her. "You have to help us," she said, "Johnny has gone missing, we've looked everywhere, I just don't know-"

"Woah, woah, slow down," Will had dismounted and put a hand on her shoulder. "Who is Johnny? Why's he gone missing?"

She shrugged helplessly, and he could hear the tears through her voice as she fought them off. "He's my son – my husband is coming home tonight, from Whitby, and I asked Johnny to go and pick some blueberries for a tart I was making as a treat. He's done it a hundred times before, I thought he'd be fine, but that was this morning, and he's only seven… We can't find him anywhere…" Her voice faded and she had to bring the corner of her apron up to cover her face.

Will had heard enough. He looked up at the dying sunlight and then across the fields. He noticed that the farmers whom he'd assumed had been working were actually searching – calling out occasionally to the missing little boy.

"Where did you send him?" He asked her, all business.

She pointed past the edge of the forest to a shady meadow. "There are some blueberry bushes just at the treeline that are ripe this time of year. I sent him there," She shook her head, "But there are dozens of them all among the trees, he knows that… Oh, he could be anywhere." She dissolved into tears and sniffles again.

Will put a hand on her shoulder. "It'll be alright, Gisele, we'll find him." He looked away for a moment, then said, "Have the men bring out torches – it'll be dark soon. And hunting dogs, if they have them. Perhaps they'll be able to sniff Johnny out. I'll go look along the forest."

Consoled by this new plan of action, Gisele wiped her face one last time, nodded, and hurried off. Will remounted Tug and toed him in the direction of the forest, several hundred metres east of his cabin. "Let's just hope we find him before anything else does," he told his horse. Tug snorted in agreement and hastened his pace.

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><p>It was actually Tug who stumbled upon the boy – quite literally. After two or so hours of looking around for any sign of Johnny, Will had been forced to resort to torchlight. With no sunlight to aid him, tracking had become impossible and he was calling out to the boy instead. Aside from several blueberry bushes stripped of all fruit, he found nothing that indicated the young boy had been in the area.<p>

"Careful now, Tug," Will warned the grey who clopped along behind him. It had rained recently, and the ground was incredibly soft. Mixed with the darkness, Will had fears that one misstep could possibly injure his horse. Tug, however, remained resolute.

_Worrywart,_ he snorted. Will said nothing, but rolled his eyes in the darkness.

A while later, after the ranger and his mount had separated by a few dozen metres, Will heard Tug give a sudden, sharp whinny.

"Tug!" He cried. The only conclusion he could come to was that the little horse had caught his foot in the dark soft soil and hurt himself.

Upon arriving to the scene, Will found himself to be partially correct. But the part he hadn't guessed turned out to be far more significant.

Tug huffed and sniffed around the sinkhole he'd inadvertently discovered, and whinnied at his clambering ranger to hurry up. Will was already running, but honestly, humans were such slow creatures.

"Tug! Are you hurt? Where did – Tug?" Will glanced at his horse, who was paying more attention to the ground than he was to his master. "Tug, you alright?"

Tug snorted and shook his mane, head still turned to the ground, ears pricked forward and alert. _Of course I'm alright, ninny, but this one's not._

Will frowned and looked closer. He realized the hole was much larger and deeper than he'd originally estimated. He brought the torchlight down to see.

A small, mud-smeared face looked up at him curiously, teeth chattering. "H-he-hello?" Johnny asked through shivers.

"Johnny?"

"Y-yes?"

"Oh, thank goodness," Will breathed, "It's Ranger Will. We've been looking all over for you - now let's get you out of there, eh?"

Johnny might have normally been alarmed at the Ranger's presence, but he was too tired and cold to care. "Okay," He said quietly.

Will glanced around the sinkhole. It looked as though the boy had already attempted to climb out, but it was a remarkably deep and steep sinkhole into which he'd fallen, narrow and cramped. Will suspected that a full grown adult would hardly have been able to fall down it.

He produced his bow and stretched it down into the dark prison. "Grab the end of my bow," he told the boy, "I'll haul you up." The boy did as he was told, and soon Will had the thin child in his arms, muddy as he was.

"You alright, Johnny? No injuries?"

The boy sniffled and thought for a moment. "Is a frozen nose an injury, Ranger? Do you think they'll have to cut it off?" He looked genuinely concerned.

Will couldn't help but laugh, relieved to see that the boy was unhurt. "No, I think they'll manage to save it. But how about a head start on the treatment?" He removed his cloak and wrapped it around the boy. "There, that'll get you warm, now come on, your mother is worried about you."

By the time they returned to Wensley, Johnny's father had returned and was in full protective-father mode, and Gisele was worried sick. When Will had ridden into the firelight holding their son, the relief was evident on both of their faces.

"He's not hurt," Will assured them, "just a little cold and muddy."

"Johnny!" Gisele was suddenly there, holding her son close and kissing his filthy face. For his part, Johnny stood immobilized by the ranger's volumous cloak, but when Gisele finally drew back, Will saw that he was smiling. As word got out that the search had paid off, Gisele noticed a strange reddish substance that clung to Johnny's face. "Johnny? What's this? Are you hurt?" At her words, Will frowned and drew closer. He'd checked the boy over and hadn't noticed any injuries. Had he missed something?

Johnny looked down sheepishly. "I'm sorry, mommy," he said miserably, "But my tummy was rumbling… I ate all your blueberries."

Now that he said it, it was clear that he had dark blueberry mash all over his face from eating while trapped in the sinkhole. He was the image of guilt itself, but Gisele only laughed and drew him near again. "Oh, thank god you're alright."

Will watched with a smile as mother and father fussed over their son and neighbors returned to their homes, relieved.

He'd always wondered at how dedicated parents were. As an orphan, he'd never really experienced it first hand, but there definitely seemed to be an unbreakable instinct in parents' care and concern for their children. Mothers in particular, Will had observed, could become frightfully protective of their young. Oftentimes, Will found himself both terrified and mystified by it.

After he'd retrieved his now muddy cloak and said his goodbyes, Will rode back to his cabin and bedded down Tug, and finally, in the wee hours of the night (or morning) fell asleep.

And now, here he was, blinking back sleep as he headed out the door. He passed by Gisele's house and smiled at her husband on the way. Contrary to a normal villager reaction, the man smiled back.

When he arrived at the castle, Will went first to the Baron to turn in the report that was due, and second to Chubb's kitchen, to grab a bite to eat.

"Excuse me, Ranger Will," a shy messenger called, "But this just came in for you." He held out a small envelope. Will smiled and took it. As he bit into a slice of bacon, he examined the letter and let out a small noise of surprise when he realized that it was from his old friend, Horace. He hadn't seen the tall knight-turned prince in some time, and was pleased to hear from him. He wiped his hand on a napkin and went to crack the wax seal when yet another broke in.

"Ranger Will?" He looked up. The messenger continued, "The battlemaster wishes to speak with you."

Sighing, Will pocketed the letter and followed the messenger out to the battleschool, where he found Rodney waiting to discuss the prospect of Will coming down to instruct the battleschool apprentices on some basic Ranger combat skills. It was a tradition that Rodney had begun sometime after he realized that it was a Ranger Corps. maneuver that had saved Horace's life in the duel with Morgarath. They settled on a date, and Will left, once again reaching for Horace's letter, when Rodney called back to him and told him that the Redmont treasurer had been looking for him lately. Will sighed heavily, wondering if fate didn't want him to hear whatever Horace had to say. With a philosophic shrug, he thanked Rodney and headed back to the castle.

Sure enough, the rest of his day was spent rushing about tending to problems and running errands. Before evening he'd all but forgotten about the envelope in his pocket. He only remembered after he'd sat down to dinner with Halt, Pauline, and Alyss. Alyss had been at their old mentors' apartment to discuss wedding plans with Pauline (Will smiled at the thought) and Halt had suggested that Will come over to join them all for dinner.

Pauline had been outlining their progress on the guest list to the two men, and when she'd mentioned Horace, Will remembered. "Oh!" He exclaimed, putting down his fork mid-bite. Pauline regarded him curiously as he fumbled at his jacket pocket.

"What is it, Will?"

"You've just reminded me, I got a letter from Horace today – I haven't had time to read it yet." He produced the letter and waved it as emphasis. He immediately went at the wax seal, but the red blob seemed determined to delay his reading even further. "Oh, bother it all. Halt, do you have a wax knife?" Will looked up at to his old mentor.

Halt swallowed and nodded. "On my desk, top shelf." Will thanked him and left the table to retrieve it. Dismissing Will's absence, Pauline went on giving her report of the day's progress to Halt. From inside Halt's study, Will could hear her voice dully. He pried the wax off the paper with the knife and unfolded the letter. For some reason, Horace's usually near-perfect penmanship seemed a bit off-kilter, as if the man had been overly excited when he wrote it. Will read:

_Dear Will,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. When I told her how long it's been since I last wrote you, Cassandra berated me for my carelessness and insisted I apologize. So, I'm sorry. If I had written, I don't know what I might've said. Up until now, nothing extraordinarily interesting has been happening, unless you consider mountains of paperwork and training Sir David's apprentices extraordinarily interesting._

Will's eye caught on the phrase 'up until now', and he read on, curiosity piqued.

_I could spend this paper outlining some boring details of the past months to appease Cassandra's displeasure, but I do have some rather exciting news to put to you, and I think if I don't write it out soon, my excitement might end up muddling the text beyond legibility. So, I'll cut right to it. Just yesterday, the castle healers confirmed that Cassandra is pregnant with our child._

Will's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, and it was the least he could do to keep from gaping.

_I'm not sure who has been smiling more the past day; me or Duncan. Cassie surprised me when she told me (after we'd had it confirmed) she'd been suspecting that she may be with child for quite some time, but didn't tell anyone for fear she might be wrong. She's taking the whole thing amazingly in stride. I just still can't believe I'm going to be a father. Somehow, writing it down like this makes it seem even more surreal._

_I know that's a horrible way to end a letter, but I've run out of things to say. Even if I did have something else to say, I'm sure it wouldn't be nearly so exciting. Ah, well, I never was very good with letters. I suppose I can't change that for even the most momentous occasions. Give my best wishes to Alyss, Pauline, Halt, Arald, and Jenny._

_See you soon,_

_Horace_

By the time he finished reading, Will's smile had grown from ear to ear, and he very nearly laughed out loud for sheer glee. Horace, a father. Cassandra, a mother. It was so unbelievable and yet so wonderful that Will could hardly contain himself.

"Will, come out and finish dinner with us, won't you?" He could hear Pauline call from the kitchen.

Not bothering to hide his smile, he walked back into the room with every intention of announcing Horace's exciting news. Alyss spoke first, however.

"What's that Cheshire grin about?" She asked. Pauline and Halt had noticed, too, and all three watched the young ranger with interest.

Will, usually so prolific in speech, found it difficult to explain. He gestured to the letter he was holding. "It's this letter I've just had from Horace, he…" He laughed and plainly told them, still smiling, "he wrote to tell me that Evanlyn is pregnant."

Immediately, Pauline and Alyss' faces lit up in happiness. Halt's eyebrows rose considerably.

"Really? Oh, that's wonderful! Let me see," Alyss said, reaching for the letter. Will gave it to her and her smile grew as she read it.

Halt indulged in a smile. "I was wondering when they'd get around to that – they've been married long enough for it," he said.

"Oh, Horace, you dear," Alyss shook her head as she read on, "He can hardly write when he's excited. They seem incredibly happy," She set down the letter with a chuckle.

"As they should be," Pauline said, also smiling. "And I suppose Duncan must also be pleased?" She tried to peek over Alyss' shoulder.

"Thrilled, I take it," Will answered her. "I can't blame him. Horace and Cassandra will be amazing parents."

"That they will," Pauline said, smiling. She turned a different kind of smile, a very smug smile, on her husband. A visible cloud came over Halt's features, and he looked as though he desperately wanted to roll his eyes, but was too wise to do so. Will was about to ask what was the matter, when Alyss broke in.

"Oh, I can't wait to see them again! I wonder if they've chosen any names yet."

Will looked at Alyss incredulously, "Alyss, they've known about the baby for all of one day – they can hardly have come up with names already."

Alyss shook her head. "Ten days, actually. The letter is dated from nine days ago, see," She pointed to the small date mark set up by the royal crest that headed the stationary. Will scoffed.

"So it's ten days old, I don't care. Either way, they could have hardly settled on anything so quickly."

"Oh, of course they could," Pauline told him with a grin, "mothers always do, at least. You'll be no different, of course." She said. Halt looked down to hide a grin when Will turned bright red. Aware of his flushed face, Will was slightly alarmed to see that Alyss wasn't blushing in the slightest, and was instead smiling to herself. His face turned even redder, and he felt the need to change the subject.

"Well, I suppose if they've come up with anything, they'll tell us when they get here." He paused to clear his throat and come up with something else to say that wasn't related to anything Pauline had just inferred. "I wonder if they've made the formal announcement yet?" He wondered aloud.

Halt, who had the most experience with royalty out of the group, nodded. "I'd imagine. They'd have to. Once it's official, word will start spreading one way or other. Unless Cassandra wants her pregnancy to be the subject of rumors only, she'd make an announcement straightaway. Besides, if what you said about Duncan is true, the King would probably make an announcement regardless of what his daughter has to say about it."

Alyss smiled. "I suppose the castle is in an uproar – of the good kind, of course."

Halt let out a short laugh. "Oh, it will be. It was pure chaos when Duncan announced Cassandra's birth, years ago." Halt suddenly frowned as he realized what he'd just said. "Oh, I feel old," he muttered quietly. Pauline laid a hand on his arm and gave him a sympathetic smile. He looked up to his wife, and Pauline's face suddenly changed. Halt saw it, and must have seen something there that neither Alyss nor will could interpret, for he suddenly became irritated. He looked away and sighed. After a few seconds thought, he turned to Will.

"Will, how long have Cassandra and Horace been married?"

Will frowned, puzzled by the question. "About five years. Why?"

Halt scratched an unshaven cheek. "Wasn't it four?"

Will shook his head, wondering why Pauline was looking so smug again. "No, it was definitely five. Remember? Just about seven months after we returned from Nihon-Ja."

Halt fixed Will with a meaningful stare. "No, it was four." He said with authority. Will didn't understand what the man was getting at.

"No, it was…" His voice faltered when Halt tried to tell him something through harsh eyebrow messages. "Uhm… It was five years, Halt." He said. Halt broke his stare, scoffed, and tossed his eyes to the ceiling.

"I told you," Pauline was suddenly saying, "I told you it'd be five years."

Will was confused. "What, had you forgotten?"

"No," Pauline said cheerily, "I told Halt, when Horace got married, that they'd have their first child after five years. He said four." She smiled. "I win."

Alyss seemed amused by this. "You mean to say you bet on how long it would take until Evanlyn had a baby?"

Pauline shrugged. "Well… Yes. And now he owes me a silver piece."

Halt looked put out. Why did his wife _always_ have to be right?

Alyss and Will could only laugh.

The spent the rest of the evening speculating on what they might name the baby, whether it would be a boy or a girl. Will dropped by Baron Arald's office to share the news, and then to Jenny's restaurant, where the young cook declared she would host a free special the next day to celebrate. Afterwards, the rangers and couriers regrouped at Halt and Pauline's for a late night coffee. After a few more hours of friendly visitation, both former apprentices rose, embraced their former mentors, and went their separate ways. As they left, Halt and Pauline stood in the doorway together, watching them go.

Pauline nodded toward the pair as they walked off. "Two years," She said plainly. Halt arched an eyebrow high and turned his head to regard her.

"…Three," he said.

"Two silvers?"

"Make it four."

Pauline smiled. "Done."

Only time would tell.

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><p>AN: Perhaps an odd ending. Okay, an odd beginning. And an odd setup. AND an odd ending, but this is just me rambling about an exciting development in the series. I'll probably write some more oneshots concerning this later on, but more from Horace's or Cassandra's point of view.

Oh, and don't be surprised by any sudden onslaught of _Lost Stories_ oneshots published in my name. Yes, I _am_ continuing _Running for My Life,_ even if Flanagan did butcher my head canon. But he's the author, not me, so I'm not going to complain. (His stories are infinitely better than anything I could ever come up with, by default. After all, they're his characters.)

Let me know if you find any typos. R&R, please!


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